The Potion's Master's Apprentice
by ShatteredAngelWings
Summary: Being Severus Snape's apprentice isn't easy. Especially when you're Hermione Granger. And especially when you have feelings for your mentor.
1. Chapter 1

The Potions Master's Apprentice

One

Red Midnight Hour

_How can I _forget_ feminine products? I'm such an idiot._ Berating herself, Hermione Granger made her way quickly to the Hospital Wing, the back of her shorts soaked with blood.

When she'd woken up in the middle of the night, sweaty, she'd thought nothing of it. However, when she cast a quick cleansing spell, the wetness between her legs made her cringe. She swore when she pulled back the blankets to find bright red everywhere, all over the sheets.

After asking Lavender, the girl admitted she used a potion and didn't have anything to help the bushy-haired witch. Which was exactly why Hermione was all but sprinting down the hallway, the back of her shorts red. A shadow swooped in front of her and she tensed, expecting Filch or Miss Norris. No, she realized with a sharp tang of embarrassment, it was Snape.

"What are you doing out of bed so late, Miss Granger?" he asked, in that silky, dark voice of his. His dark, intense eyes stared down at her unwaveringly and she felt a little trickle of blood swell in her panties. Her face went red. "I-I-I n-need to see Madame Po-Pomfrey," she managed without biting off her tongue.

He regarded her quietly, his sharp gaze prickling her skin. "I-I-I have a headache—" He cut her off sharply, precisely. "Come now, can't you think of a better excuse than the most common one in the book?" he said smoothly. Anger flared inside her stomach. "I really just need to—" He interrupted her again. "Regardless of your _headache_, I suggest you turn tail and head back to Gryffindor Tower, Miss Granger."

"_Sir_, I _need _to see Madame Pomfrey," she gritted out, a flush of embarrassment creeping across her chest and face. He dismissed her with a wave of his long, thin hand. "I hardly believe—" he started but she tried to dart passed him. He grabbed her arm, firmly, and a shock rippled through her. His jaw was clenched. "Where do you—" "I need to go see Madame Pomfrey, _sir_," she spat back and was taken aback when his eyes went wide for a split second.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor for being out passed curfew. And twenty more for disrespecting a teacher," he whispered in a deadly tone, smoothing his face into a mask again. "I need—" Hermione began, wiggling out of his grasp and his cheeks went pink. "I told you I need to see Madame Pomfrey and no, it can't wait until the morning," she growled, her voice rising as her embarrassment faded away and anger washed in. A tidal wave rose in her chest.

"Miss Granger," Snape nearly bellowed in the quietest of volumes, "I suggest you get back to Gryffindor Tower _now_." "Professor," she sighed, feeling tears fill her eyes despite her anger, "I need to go to Madame Pomfrey to get…er…feminine products," she whispered in defeat.

A long stretch of silence. "Go," he grunted and turned away while she fled to the Hospital Wing for what she needed and what Snape had made her wait for nearly twenty minutes to get.

* * *

_You're a total ass, you know that, right? She _said _she needed to see Pomfrey and yet you made her stand there, her shorts getting bloodied, and for _what? Severus scrubbed at his face as he flopped down into his chair, replaying the encounter behind his closed eyelids.

An uncomfortable feeling washed over him as he shed himself of his teaching robes and sat by the fire, the Butterbeer in his hand dripping condensation onto his pant leg. "Damn it," he groaned, more to himself than anyone.

Why hadn't it crossed his mind that she needed to go for feminine reasons? Why else would the little chit be up and about at midnight? She didn't have any boys after her, although she was pretty enough in her own way, and she didn't have any girls chasing after her. She certainly wasn't James Potter or Lily Evans, sneaking out after curfew to meet each in the Room of Requirement.

He sipped his drink as he contemplated the anomaly that was Hermione Granger. She was fiercely loyal, like a Hufflepuff, but courageous like a Gryffindor, and clever like a Slytherin, and the book smarts of a Ravenclaw. At first glance, she seemed to be just like the rest of the little shits here: loud, noisy, and used to getting their way. Rude and disrespectful towards adults, never caring about the consequences of their actions.

But, upon closer inspection, she was quite the young lady. She understood the consequences of her decisions, her actions and she owned up to the punishment. She admired the beauty in knowledge and loved learning; she wasn't there to chase after boys and snog (he snorted into his cup at the juvenile term) and be obnoxious in general.

She had a brain and she knew how to use it. It was refreshing when she approached him with questions, sometimes asking things even _he _didn't know the answer to. She was brilliant, no doubt, and if she'd fallen into the crowd of Death Eaters as he had, she'd have been one of the most powerful Dark witches there'd ever been, more powerful than Albus even.

_The war is over_, he told himself firmly but he still felt the lingering effects of so many Crucios from time to time, the twinge of phantom agony ripping through entire body at the memory of being Summoned. He stared into the crackling fire as his thoughts churned over and over, until the Butterbeer was gone and his fire had died.

He stripped down to his briefs and crawled into bed; his wand felt warm under his pillow. Staring up at the ceiling, feeling the cool sheets on his warm skin, he thought of Lily. Lily, beautiful, cruel Lily. She'd been his only friend, the only light in his darkness, and when she'd extended her hand in a bridge of friendship, he'd latched on, got too attached, and ultimately sealed his fate in cement.

Rolling into his side, Severus extended his arm—a strike, moonlight arm with coarse dark hair that ran to his knuckles, the big, black Mark winking up at him—and spread his spidery fingers slowly. And then his hand closed as if holding someone else's, helping her, guiding her into the light, into his life maybe.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought to himself, _No more late-night Butterbeers for you_. Relaxing slightly, Severus let his mind drift off into the lull that was Hermione's voice and fell asleep, dreaming of an angel with frizzy hair and a laugh that sounded more like a snort.

A real angel's laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

The Potion Master's Apprentice

Two

Apologetic Date

Hermione debated on sleeping for today, _especially _after last night. With a low groan, she buried her face in her pillow and tried to block out the horrible memory._ I can't believe I said _that _to him! _Mortified still, she made her way to the bathroom, scrubbed away the crimson and changed into a pair of washed-out jeans and a light grey sweater, feeling comfortable as her hair dried naturally and curled. Even if she was bleeding from down below this week, she always felt better after a shower. Except today.

oOo

Blinding light seared Severus's eyelids as he bolted awake, Hermione's name on his lips. It was as he padded nude to his bathroom that it hit him; he'd called Hermione's name in his sleep. Grumbling to himself, he brushed his teeth and washed his face, ignoring the safety razor. Under the hot spray of water, he scrubbed away the last bit of sleep and sweat from his body and stared at that one mark on his arm.

Sure, he'd gotten some tattoos over the year but this one…it had been branded with Dark magic and would never disappear. With a noise of disgust, he turned the water up to almost unbearable and stood, letting it burn his skin.

Damn, he had to face _her_. Hopefully, she didn't act weird or jumpy or, dear Merlin, emotional. _I can't believe she spoke to me that way, _he thought dimly as he scrubbed his hair.

oOo

Severus was already there when Hermione sat down for breakfast. Draco bumped her with his shoulder as he looked at the _Daily Prophet _over her shoulder. "Do you _mind_?" she asked finally when he took a swig of her orange juice.

"Nope." He popped the P and swiped a piece of sausage from her plate, biting into it right next to her ear. "Why is my godfather giving you the death glare? Did you piss in his eggs?" the blonde asked as Hermione flipped a page.

She stared at the page, a moving photo that made her choke on her eggs. "Merlin!" Draco thumped her on the back and she coughed, choking to breathe. The eggs slid down and she sat there, eyes watering. "Who is it? Oh." Her looked at her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried not to laugh, and then he was chuckling, teeth showing.

Splashed across the front page was _Harry Potter's Mistress: Know-It-All Hermione Granger's Love Affair with The Boy Who Lived. _"Rubbish!" she hissed, cheeks flaming as every head turned her way. "It's the Triwizard Tournament all over again," she moaned as she buried her face in her arms.

"Miss Granger," a silky voice spoke quietly behind and she cocked her head back; a pair of ebony eyes met hers. Her face flamed even worse at the memory of their late-night confrontation as Snape crossed his long, hard arms over his chest and cocked a black eyebrow at the open _Daily Prophet _laying next to her plate.

"Why would you waste your time with Potter? He's far too…dim…to appreciate a mind like yours, Miss Granger." Draco's eyes went wide as his jaw dropped open. Hermione's face warmed even more as Snape's cool eyes met hers. "I apologize for last night," he continued in his quiet way of speaking.

When he glanced away to glower at a couple sucking face, Draco turned to Hermione and mouthed "_last night?_" and the look on his face made her want to smack him.

How could Draco even _suggest _that, especially since the man in question, although dark and mysterious and drop-dead sexy, was completely and utterly untouchable…and her _teacher! _He was twice her age and snarky; she remembered every hurtful comment towards her unattractive appearance.

"I didn't realize…" He trailed of and she was delighted to see his cheeks turn red. "Anyway, I hope this changes nothing between us. I would like to invite for, perhaps, a dinner? Between mentor and apprentice, of course."

How could she refuse a night of dining with the man that haunted her dreams? "S-Sure," she squeaked out and he gave her a quick once-over that sparked heat through her. Was he checking her out? His calm expression slipped for a split second and she was certain she saw something—lust? Disgust would probably be more likely—flicker across his sallow face.

He gave a quick nod and turned away; in his Teaching Voice, he deducted fifteen points from Hufflepuff for inappropriate conduct. He strode off back towards the dias as Hermione picked at her breakfast, sausage links forgotten and eggs picked to pieces.

"What the hell," Draco spat at her, eyes flashing with anger and hurt, "was _that_?" He leaned in close enough for her to smell his body spray and hair gel and she knew she had to spill. "Remember how I started my time of the month?" she asked slowly, feeling her face heat up again. He nodded.

"Well, I didn't have anything with me and Lavender and the other girls use potions. I don't because they mess with my cycle. Anyway, Snape found me on my way to Madam Pomfrey's and made me stand there and I got mad and…kind of…blew up at him and finally admitted _why _I needed to see her. He let me go," Hermione explained quietly and quickly; Draco burst out laughing.

"You told him you needed tampons? You told _your crush _of six or so years _that_?" he said in an awed voice. "If I spoke to him like that, he'd deduct points." Hermione closed her eyes as Draco prattled on.

"He, uh, took one hundred twenty points from Gryffindor," she explained lamely and the blonde gave her a wide-eyed look. "I was in a bad mood as it was and he wasn't making it any better," she admitted quietly. "He's staring at us right now," Draco whispered and it took her all her strength not to turn around to see if it was true.

The Slytherin, although sly at times, wouldn't lie to her. After all, it was he who was the first person she told about liking Snape. He was happy for her and always seemed to be trying to push them together; despite Hermione's protests about student/teacher relationships.

"Plus," she sighed, "he sees as his _apprentice_, not a woman." Draco snickered. "Oh, 'Mione, how wrong you are," he said as he slung his arm across her shoulders and they walked out of the Great Hall. "Operation Snamione is a go!" he declared in the hallway.

Hermione hid her face, mortified, but couldn't suppress the tiny smile.


End file.
